


Metaphysical Determinism

by silverlocusts



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angsty fluff?, F/F, Finch is not, POV Sameen Shaw, Post Samaritan, Relationship Negotiation, Root is Alive, There's some sex too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 05:24:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8520169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverlocusts/pseuds/silverlocusts
Summary: Set in my headcanon world after Harold Finch yanked the steering wheel from Root's hands and took a sniper's bullet rather than let his friend die, leaving Root to make the most difficult decision of her life, whether kill her God. Those events are not featured here though. I just wanted a scene where real Root got the chance to tell Shaw that she was an arrow.





	

It was a Friday. Shaw was looking at Root from where she was standing halfway between the back of the sofa and the front door. Root was curled up on the sofa and had been minimally communicative for the last two weeks. Shaw guessed this was what grief looked like in regular people. The withdrawn silences, the quiet tears, the apathy. It was more than she knew what to do with. She could get Root as the perky psycho, the uber nerd, the sensational sex partner. This emotional bleakness was something Shaw was not equipped to deal with. She knew it. Root knew it. There was only one thing left to do.

“I’m leaving.” 

Shaw was ready to go. A holdall in her hand with some clothes and more guns, things that she had left at this safe house Root had taken to staying in. Leaving was the only good thing she could do. 

“What?” Root turned around from her position on the sofa, clocking Shaw and seeing her for what felt like the first time in days.

“I’m leaving. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Root got up from the sofa slowly, her eyes fixed on Shaw’s. She stood there for a second, one hand holding on to the back of the sofa like she was tethering herself to the ground.

“You’re leaving?”

Shaw nodded. 

“Why?”

Shaw sighed. She knew she should have done this in the middle of the night. Except that she couldn’t. For some reason, she couldn’t just walk out without giving Root a chance to say something back. It seemed disrespectful.

“Because…” Shaw looked around the room for inspiration. “Because this isn’t working,” she settled on.

Root took a step towards her. “What isn’t working?”

“Y’know...me and you.”

Shaw shifted uncomfortably. She knew this wasn’t exactly an ideal time. Root was still grieving about Finch, about the Machine. About Reese for all she knew. But there was no helping it. The longer she stayed, the worse it would be.

“Sameen…” Root started. She closed her mouth after that, and Shaw was hopeful that she had nothing to say. What was there to say? This was never meant to happen.

“Why don’t you think this is working?” Root finally asked.

If she’d been born a wordsmith, Shaw would have answered then, about how someone like her could never be with someone normal. Well normal-ish, given this was Root. About how she wasn’t cut out to be someone’s girlfriend, to support them through grief she couldn’t understand, through endless future turmoil she wasn’t able to comprehend. She would have told Root that she deserved to be with someone who could return what she gave in kind. Who could say I love you and mean it.

Instead, Shaw shrugged. She shrugged and shook her head, at a loss for words when she knew she should have some. A normal person would have had words to say. This was case in point of why she needed to leave.

“I’m not cut out for this Root,” she said finally, “I can’t be what you need.”

And Root nodded, or at least bobbed her head like she was agreeing. And so Shaw turned her back and made for the door.

“Sameen.”

Shaw stopped with her hand on the doorknob. A few seconds later and Root took her hand, was tugging her to the sofa. Shaw let herself be led. Some part of her was hoping this wasn’t over, even as her brain kicked her and told her she was the one who’d decided it was the end. Root pushed her down to sit on the couch, and Shaw let her bag drop to the floor with a thump. Root straddled her lap, and Shaw almost smiled, remembering other times when Root had sat on her like this, a precursor to sex. Then Root cupped her face and forced her to look into Root’s eyes, the expression there was unreadable, as it often was to Shaw.

“Before you go,” Root said at last, “I need to tell you something.”

Shaw waited, wondering what on earth Root thought she could say that would change things and mentally discounting each argument. What Root actually said was a surprise.

“You know when I told we’re all just shapes?”

Shaw nodded almost automatically. She wasn’t likely to forget Root springing a metaphysical conversation on her in the midst of a firefight.

“Is this gonna be another conversation about how much you like my ass?”

Shaw was rewarded with a small smile, but she could tell it wasn’t genuine, that it didn’t reach Root’s eyes.

“There’s things I haven’t ever said to you, because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable I guess, and because we never had the time. But I suppose if you’re leaving then I may as well get it out the way.” Root looked away, though her hands still held Shaw’s face. “If we’re all shapes Sameen,” she said, her eyes meeting Shaw’s again, “then you’re a straight line, an arrow.” Root swallowed audibly, but she didn’t let go, and somehow Shaw was unable to move too, unable to decide if she wanted to hear what Root was gonna say next. “I know you always thought there was something wrong with you, but I always thought that was what made you beautiful.”

There were tears in Root’s eyes now, threatening to spill at the slightest encouragement. Shaw was held in place, transfixed by Root’s face. She was so beautiful. Shaw swallowed, uncomfortable about how close Root was treading to that inside part of her that existed for no-one else.

Shaw tried to look away at last, to escape the hold Root had on her. This was what she did; she deflected and pushed away. 

“I just wanted you to know, that whatever dumb reason you’ve concocted to justify leaving, it’s not about me, ok? It’s on you,” Root said, her voice only a murmur.

“Root…” Shaw finally said. She couldn’t think of anything to follow it. She looked back at Root’s eyes and then away again, unable to process the intensity of Root’s gaze. 

And then suddenly Root’s lips pressed against hers, and Shaw kissed her back without thinking. A reflex action from a hundred times when this has happened before. That same automatic response that made her blood sing and some hidden reserve of desire spring into being. 

They kissed for a long time, the tension building slowly between them. Shaw didn’t know if this was goodbye or something else, but she figured they deserved a goodbye like this at least. Then Root pulled back, her hands still cupping Shaw’s cheeks, holding her in place, making her a captive audience to Root’s emotions. 

“We belong together,” Root said. “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved.”

Shaw tried to pull out of Root’s grip, her eyes flicked away to study the blank wall of the apartment. “That’s the problem Root. I don’t love you back. I can’t love you. Don’t you understand? I’m not cut out for this.”

Root hands just gripped harder, until Shaw’s gaze turned back to her.

“Didn’t you hear anything I just said?” Root sounded almost angry. “I love you for exactly who you are. I wouldn’t change a thing about you. I don’t care that you don’t feel what I feel.”

Shaw tried to roll her eyes but found it harder than expected to dismiss Root’s words. Shaw would never admit that she has always conceived of herself as faulty in someway, defunct, not quite human, not a normal person. She recognised she thought that deep down, but she would never say it aloud, never ask for someone to contradict her. 

“Root. You don’t know what you’re saying. I can’t give you what you need.”

Root’s eyebrow game was second to none. “And what is it you think I need?”

Shaw shrugged the best she could from her position. It seemed impossible to say it clearly, but she knew. She knew she would just hurt Root, regardless of her intentions. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words come out.

Then Root kissed her again, harsh and needy, and Shaw responded because she didn’t know how to do anything else. Root could take her, take all of her that she wanted, because Shaw knew she could still walk away after without looking back. And then Root moved her lips to Shaw’s neck, to her ear, to the soft skin behind.

“All I need is you,” is what Root whispered in her ear. And then her lips were back on Shaw’s own, demanding and insistent. Shaw was powerless to resist, felt her body take on a life of its own. Desire coursed through her, and something else too. Root’s words slipped into her brain, entwined themselves there. Shaw knew Root wasn’t lying, not about how she felt. Could a normal person love someone like her? The answer to that question was one Shaw didn't know. She neither knew what love was nor cared anymore, though maybe she had once. She kissed Root back, wanting her still, every time. 

A thought popped into Shaw’s brain then. The question, Shaw realized, was maybe not could someone love her, but could she let herself be loved.

She pushed Root away for a moment, both of them breathing heavily. Their physical attraction was the one thing Shaw always thought would sustain them. She never understood what else relationships were made from. Except maybe she did now, somehow. Without realizing it. Thoughts flicked through her brain. Memories of her mother and father and their relationship, things she’d read and heard about commitment, things she learnt about herself from months of simulations. Shaw felt safe right here in Root’s arms. As happy as she knew how to be. Root made her more than herself, Shaw realized. And even if it’s not true in anyone else’s mind, she really believed that Root thought she was beautiful exactly how she was.

Shaw felt like she had expanded in her own skin. Root didn’t want her apologies or her excuses, didn’t want her false words or her insincere actions. Root just wanted her to be there for the future, and to be there right now. 

She kissed Root again, felt the blood thrum under her skin, felt heat lance through her body and settle between her legs. Shaw had no idea how Root affected her so easily but now was not the time or the place to be wondering about that. She felt Root respond under her touch, Root’s grip on her face finally lessening as her hands moved to more interesting places. 

It didn’t take long for Shaw to forget. Or maybe not forget, but bookmark. She wanted Root’s skin on hers, wanted to touch her and devour her and be in her. It took over, but there was still a part of her brain that remembered that she was supposed to walk out. Except maybe what she wanted to do now, instead, was to show Root what she couldn’t express with words. Gratitude maybe, or relief, or something that meant you see me and I see you back.

They pushed and pulled each other until they were horizontal on the sofa, tugged at each others clothes until their skin was the only thing separating them. Shaw sunk into Root’s body, the familiar warmth of her comforting and erotic in equal measure. Shaw very much wanted to make Root come. She wrestled herself on top as her hands ran everywhere and her lips tasted the sweat on Root’s body. Shaw licked and kissed and sucked and bit her way across Root’s skin. Her fingers slipped between Root’s legs, and Root followed suit. They entered each other almost at the same time, like they were part of a circuit. Shaw saw tears in Root’s eyes but didn’t stop. She thought they were necessary for Root.

“You wanna stop?” Shaw said, her fingers stilled for a moment.

Root smiled and shook her head and fucked Shaw hard enough to make her swear.

Root’s felt so good inside her, brought Shaw close to the edge embarrassingly fast. She tried to focus on what she was doing to Root, fought to keep control of the rhythm of her hand even as the rest of her body lost control. Root too became erratic, her tears forgotten as she fought to maintain the pace. They came almost at the same time, and Shaw could do nothing in the aftermath but collapse on top of Root, her legs shaking.

For a while, Shaw lay there quietly. She was boneless and tired from the sex, but thought maybe they weren’t done, weren’t ready to move apart. She didn’t know why yet. Her head was resting on Root’s torso, just under her breasts. It was comfortable and warm and Root was stroking her back.

The words, when they came, seemed to come from nowhere.

“I knew I was different when my father died. I watched my mother grieve and didn't understand it or know what to do. I think she resented me a little bit for a while, because she wanted me to be more sad maybe, or wanted to feel less sad. She never said anything to me, but sometimes I could tell. I think she wished she didn’t have to grieve alone.”

Root said nothing, but continued to run her hands along Shaw’s back, their bodies rising and falling together with the soft, regular movements of Root’s breath.

“I wanted to make it up to her, show her I could be a good, caring person. That’s why I tried to be a doctor, so she would know that I did care about people. That I was still a person despite everything. I think she was proud of me, I mean, she said so sometimes. I always wondered if she worried I’d turn into a serial killer or something so maybe she was being overly reinforcing. When I got kicked out of med school, I figured the only thing left to do to make her proud was to enlist, y’know ‘follow in my father’s footsteps’.”

There was silence for a while, and Shaw half expected Root to say something, or do something. But was glad she didn’t.

“The Marines was the first time in my life I ever felt like a whole person. I knew I wasn’t like the others, but that made me better at my job, not worse. Always figured the military would have cloned me if they knew how, no more soldiers getting PTSD, or losing it under pressure and panicking.” She paused as she thought back on that time in her life. “They were good years.”

She ran out of things to say then, so they just lay there, breathing together.

“When I was twelve, my best friend was murdered,” Root said quietly after a few minutes. Shaw knew this but she didn’t say anything. She figured Root got to talk now. 

“I guess you know that already, but I don’t know if you know that it made me look at the world differently. It made me realise how dangerous other people were, how they could hurt each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, nerdy gay kids are never gonna have a great time in small town Texas…” 

Shaw could hear the smile in Root’s voice and was grateful. She poked Root in the side gently. 

“Dork.”

She felt Root nod.

“After my friend was killed, it was like a veil lifted. I suddenly saw everyone for the first time. I saw how their emotions turned them into monsters, or abusers, or liars…”

Shaw could understand that. She often wondered at the sheer illogic of people’s minds, their motivations obscure and ridiculous. Ever since med school she had been grateful she wasn’t like them. Until Root, that was. Until this.

“I knew I couldn’t get rid of my emotions,” Root continued, “knew they were a part of me. But I wanted to control them. Except I saw people trying to control them. Those tough guys who won’t cry but go apeshit at a bar on a Friday night or go home and beat their wives. That wasn’t real control, I figured that out pretty early on. I realized that the only way to control emotion was to know it intimately. To feel as much of it as possible, to understand it so that you knew why you were doing what you did. It took a long time to figure it all out, to feel like I had any control.”

Shaw tried to imagine what it would have been like, what that could have been like. She didn’t think she could understand, not really. For her, feelings were either present or they weren’t. She wasn’t afraid to admit to them when they happened, at least inside, but mostly it was calm waters. Shaw had never seen the point in dwelling overlong on those feelings that did surface, or making any of them public.

Except maybe, after all, she wasn’t as brave about it as she liked to think.

“You kind of came out of left field, y’know. I always thought I’d dodged a bullet when it came to relationships. Was happy being by myself.” Root ran her hands through Shaw’s hair, and Shaw really thought, really tried to put herself in Root’s shoes, tried to understand why anyone would want that if they weren’t like Shaw herself. Why had Root never wanted to be with someone?

It seemed like a stupid question on the surface, like obviously illegal shit, and moving around, and trying to explain the up close personal relationship with an AI. But really, why shouldn’t Root have a person in her life? She was hot and emoted normally and was smart and capable. May as well ask what kind of person had Shaw as their ideal romantic partner. She supposed that it couldn’t really be any other way. For either of them. For whatever reason. God knew Shaw found it hard enough to meet people she respected, let alone anyone she respected and liked, let alone anyone she respected, liked and wanted to fuck. She never really thought about how rare it might be for Root to actually find someone she respected, liked and wanted to fuck too. It was kind of a fluke they found each other at all.

Shaw moved then, lifted her head off of Root’s chest and leaned up to kiss her. It was softer than before, more tender, which was not normal for Shaw. Though it had become more normal with Root, it seemed. Somehow. She let off the kiss and opened her eyes to see Root looking at her. There was something in Root’s eyes but Shaw couldn’t really tell what it was; identifying Root’s complex emotions was a work in progress. She kissed Root again, briefly on the lips and then moving down her body, eliciting gasps as she teased Root’s breasts and ran her hands over Root’s hips and stomach and thighs. It was with a content sigh that Shaw settled between Root’s legs and breathed in the scent of her arousal. She dipped her head to taste her, felt Root arc up into her touch. She pulled Root closer as her tongue got to work, focused entirely on Root’s body, the sounds she made, the way her muscles twitched and tensed under Shaw’s touch.

When Root came, it was intense even from Shaw’s end. Root was loud and wet and messy and thrashing, and all the things that made her the hottest human being Shaw had ever fucked. She had to suppose she was pretty lucky. Shaw watched from between Root’s legs as she recovered, placed small kisses on her belly and her thighs.

After a couple of minutes Root looked down at her with soft eyes, and Shaw felt something in her chest swell and tried not to squirm away. 

“Come here,” Root said quietly. 

Shaw came. She shifted her body up, positioned herself above Root’s mouth, and looked down at the smile on Root’s face and found herself smiling in response. Root grabbed her thighs and pulled her down, her tongue pressing into the heat between Shaw’s legs. Shaw moaned and grabbed onto the back of the sofa for support as Root kissed and licked her. Shaw’s eyes fell closed as she let herself get caught up in the sensation. Root went gently at first, but was soon digging her fingers into Shaw’s legs and ass and back, forcing her closer, encouraging Shaw to grind on her mouth. Shaw lost herself for a while, riding the keening edge of pleasure until she fell, suddenly, off the edge and down into Root.

They lay there for a while once more.

“So are you still going to leave?” Root asked, unable to completely remove the vulnerability from her voice.

Shaw screwed her eyes shut and remembered thousands of simulations where Root was the only safe place in a world full of uncertainty and conflict. 

“I guess not,” she said finally.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in the wee hours as I watched the US election coverage, then edited on three hours sleep and after a day of emotional fallout. I hope you're all safe.


End file.
